


The Scale of Sacrifice

by Nelenus



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Assassination Attempt(s), Dimiclaude Birthday Week (Fire Emblem), M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:22:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26032612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nelenus/pseuds/Nelenus
Summary: Dimitri and Claude take a day off, only to be attacked by assassins in the forest. With no medicine, no healing magic, and no allies for miles, there is only one way to save Claude's life...
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 6
Kudos: 62





	The Scale of Sacrifice

For the kings of Fódlan and Almyra, moments of escape were rare.

The war had long since ended, but reconstruction efforts in Fódlan, along with peacetime politics, often left King Dimitri as busy as he had been during the war. Claude – or, rather, King Khalid of Almyra, as he was now known – visited Fódlan and its new king frequently to help out.

Everyone knew from the moment the new Almyran king’s identity was revealed that the visits were for more than political reasons. Dimitri’s love for the former Alliance leader was well known, and dated back to their days at Garreg Mach. In fact, rumors of their wedding began swirling around upon the first day of Claude’s return to Fódlan, and his reunion with Dimitri in Derdriu.

However, Dimitri had no time to care about rumors. He was busy enough as it was. Sometimes, it was all he could do just to find spare time to relax.

Such opportunities were rare, but finally, he and Claude were able to come up with something.

At Dimitri’s suggestion, they both decided to go on a morning ride. But Claude, who knew the area around Derdriu better, would lead the way. After leaving some instructions for Dedue to handle things while they were out, they both went to the stables to saddle up their horses. Shortly after that, they headed out. 

It was not far - only a few miles southwest of the coast. It was an easy and relaxing ride as well, being mostly across open plain until they crossed a small river and reached the woods themselves. From there, they slowed down, enjoying the shade from the trees.

For a few minutes, everything was peaceful and quiet. Dimitri glanced about in every direction, taking in the lush greenery all around him. Next to him, Claude appeared to be doing the same, until he pulled his horse to an abrupt halt.

“Hold on a moment,” he said.

Dimitri halted his horse as well, now looking curiously at Claude. For half a second, Dimitri wondered if he was about to show him something.

Claude tilted his head upward slightly, while simultaneously reaching down for something hidden underneath the folds of his riding cloak. Though he tried to be slow and subtle about it, the effort was wasted. His hand had barely moved an inch when it happened.

Something – or, rather, some _one_ – dropped out of the branches of the tree overhead, crashing onto Claude’s shoulders. The sudden noise of leaves rustling and the branch snapping had already startled Claude’s horse; the stranger’s heavy landing on its back sent it into a panic. Meanwhile, Claude himself cried out in surprise.

Though it quickly morphed into a scream of pain.

Dimitri’s own horse had also startled somewhat. But by the time he had the horse under control, Claude and his assailant had both fallen to the ground. Claude’s horse took off running.

“Claude!” Dimitri cried.

Before Dimitri could move, more attackers emerged from the trees. He heard the rustling first, then looked up just in time to see one about to jump on him. Raising both arms over his head, he stopped his would-be assailant in mid-air and hurled him to the ground. The sound of yelling on either side of him signaled that more were approaching. Dimitri swore under his breath.

Neither he nor Claude had any weapons. The war was _over,_ and today was only meant to have been a leisurely ride through the forest. With battle being the farthest thing from his mind, Dimitri had left Areadbhar behind.

He had no choice but to fight back with his bare hands.

Letting out a savage yell, Dimitri jumped off the horse and on top of the nearest enemy. The assassin grunted in pain, knees buckling under Dimitri’s weight. They both tumbled to the ground, but not before Dimitri brought down both fists as hard as he could on his enemy’s head. The force behind his punch crushed the man’s skull. He collapsed on the ground, his body twitching a bit before going motionless. Shaking some of the blood from his hands, Dimitri then scrambled to get back on his feet.

He didn’t get far. Two more assassins appeared, both charging at once. Dimitri caught the flash of a blade swinging towards him from the left, forcing him to dodge. But in dodging one, he ended up in the path of the other.

The heavy punch of a gauntlet in his right side stopped him short. Dropping to his knees, Dimitri turned to face the one who had landed the blow. They drew their fist back, readying another hit. They were then stopped short when Dimitri put up his hands to block.

The assassin with the sword also tried again. As they went into another swing, Dimitri acted fast. He tightened his grip on his enemy’s gauntlet, stood up, and swung the man full force into his comrade. Both assassins cried out as they crashed into the dirt. But Dimitri allowed them no time to recover.

With another yell, he tackled the swordsman, forcing his sword hand open and breaking every finger in the man’s hand in the process. The swordsman screamed, dropping his sword and clutching his mangled hand. He looked on in horror as Dimitri picked up the sword, then ran him through with it. The brawler tried to escape, earning him a fatal stab wound through the back. 

Tossing the blade aside, Dimitri then immediately shifted his focus.

“Claude!” he called again.

The assassin that had first jumped Claude turned around. The blade in his hand was soaked in blood, and just beyond him, Claude himself lay on the ground, only partially visible from this angle.

He wasn’t moving.

At first, Dimitri froze, heart plummeting into his stomach. Though it only lasted for a split second, it felt like an eternity. That Dimitri’s world had come to a crashing halt. 

The assassin began to move. What happened next barely registered in Dimitri’s mind.

He let out a deafening scream, then charged. Grief and rage clouded his senses, numbing him to pain and blocking out all coherent thought. With his mind in such a fog, he barely noticed when the assassin swung his blade around, slashing open Dimitri’s left shoulder. The assassin’s eyes went wide with fear, and he tried to abandon the blade and flee, but was too late. 

Dimitri seized him by the neck, dragging him back. Gripping the assassin’s throat with both hands, he then shoved him down to the ground. Dimitri’s unnaturally powerful grip, combined with the force of the impact, crushed the assassin’s windpipe and broke his neck. He instantly went limp.

But Dimitri did not seem to notice. Letting go of his enemy’s neck, he took to punching the corpse instead, screaming incoherently the whole time.

Until a feeble groaning noise suddenly got his attention. He froze mid-punch, not moving a muscle while he listened intently.

“Dimitri…”

His breath caught in his throat.

That was Claude’s voice.

Claude was still alive.

Dimitri immediately got up and rushed to his side. Claude groaned again, feebly attempting to brace himself on his hands and push himself up. With Dimitri’s help, he managed to sit up, but he had to lean heavily on Dimitri’s shoulder for support. He then looked down at the blood staining his shirt. The fabric was already saturated, but more blood continued to spill out of the wound. Dimitri looked at it too, the newly rekindled hope in his eye already starting to fade.

“Hold on, Claude…” he said.

Casting about for anything he could use as a bandage, Dimitri resorted to tearing off the corner of his riding cloak. As he pressed it over Claude’s wound to stanch the bleeding, Claude tensed up, and he inhaled sharply at the pain. Dimitri drew back for a second, then tried again, more gently this time.

As he did so, Claude rested his hand on Dimitri’s.

“Don’t…” he said weakly. 

Dimitri paused, staring at Claude in disbelief.

“What do you mean?” he said, his voice quavering. “If I don’t stop the bleeding, you’ll…”

Claude took a few shallow breaths before answering.

“It’s too late…” he said. “I’m sorry…”

Tears began welling up in Dimitri’s eye.

“Don’t say that!” he said. He continued to press the torn fabric over Claude’s wound. “You’ll be fine; you’ve survived things like this before…”

He bit his lip. Claude _had_ survived seemingly fatal wounds before, right?

It took him a minute to rack his brains for the memory. But then when it did come to him, he gasped in realization. His eye lit up again.

“Remember when we were fighting in Derdriu all those years ago?” he said. “I saw you heal yourself when you shot down an Imperial soldier… That was due to your Crest, wasn’t it?”

A sudden clarity flashed in Claude’s previously dulled eyes. He took another couple of gasps of air while his eyes widened in horror.

“No, Dimitri,” he said. “The Crest of Riegan does have healing power, but…”

“You can use your Crest to heal yourself!”

_“No!”_

Dimitri’s heart sank again.

“What do you mean ‘no’?”

Apparently, the small amount of exertion in that one emphatic “no” was too much. Claude grimaced, reflexively reaching up and clutching his wound. He smeared blood on his glove in the process, but that went unnoticed as he lapsed into a coughing fit. Dimitri leaned in closer, nestling Claude’s head and neck in the crook of his arm. Though he tried to make Claude as comfortable as possible, he still could only watch helplessly while Claude fought to get his breathing back under control.

Once the coughing fit subsided, he tried speaking again.

“The Crest of Riegan… works by stealing life from another…” he began. “I would have to channel its power… into an attack…”

“I know that.”

Dimitri quickly scanned the area. He didn’t want to get up and grab the assassin’s sword; fortunately, he caught the glint of Claude’s dagger in the grass nearby. Better yet, it was within arm’s reach. He reached for it, taking care not to move Claude too much. As he sat back down, he held out the dagger, waiting for Claude to take it.

But Claude refused.

“No,” he said again, his eyes welling up. “Dimitri… you can’t ask me to do this…”

Meanwhile, Dimitri could hold back his own tears no longer.

“What other choice do we have?” he said. “Please, Claude. I promise you, I’ll be fine; just stab me in the arm or leg so that-”

“You don’t understand,” Claude interrupted. “My Crest… can only heal so much… and for a wound this severe…”

“It would stop the bleeding at least, wouldn’t it? That would be better than doing nothing!”

Dimitri lowered his arm, putting the dagger in Claude’s hand, then held Claude’s fingers closed around it. Then, though his arm had become somewhat unsteady, he brought it back up, lifting Claude’s hand along with it. He looked directly into Claude’s eyes.

“Claude, _please,_ ” he begged. “If wounding me is the only way to save you, then so be it. I would sooner cut off my entire arm than watch you die!”

Yet still Claude would not move his hand. He looked at Dimitri, his own tears finally starting to fall. 

“No, Dimitri,” he said. “For a wound like this… I’d have to inflict an equally fatal wound…”

_“...What?”_

“I can’t – _won’t –_ take your life… I’d never forgive myself…”

Dimitri moved Claude’s hand so that the dagger point hovered a couple inches above his leg. His shoulders shook with sobs, causing his arm to waver as well.

“You don’t need to,” he insisted, catching his breath long enough to speak. “Even a stab to my leg ought to do _something…”_

He lifted Claude’s hand higher, looking pointedly at him. Several seconds passed. Claude still did not move.

Dimitri raised the dagger a couple more inches. 

Then he swiftly brought it down, plunging it deep into his thigh.

Claude gasped, startled by the sudden movement. He stared in silent shock at the dagger, unable to move his hand out from under Dimitri’s grip.

“What are you waiting for?” Dimitri cried. “Use your Crest!”

“Dimitri… that’s not…”

Several more seconds passed, with Claude’s shallow and erratic breathing the only sound to break the silence. Nothing was happening. Though he had expected a sickly feeling similar to the drain of a Nosferatu spell, Dimitri felt nothing. Just the pain of his own self-inflicted wound.

Had Claude activated his Crest at all?

Dimitri looked down at his leg, watching the blood seep out. He waited a little longer. Still nothing.

Meanwhile, Claude’s breathing grew weaker by the second. His hand relaxed under Dimitri’s grip. As a sharp pang struck him in the chest, Dimitri released his grip as well, allowing Claude’s arm to fall to the side. He began to shake violently again as he gave in to the realization.

He had failed.

Yanking the dagger out of his thigh, Dimitri threw it on the ground by his foot. Throwing his head back, he then let out a piercing wail. He ran out of breath quickly, and his screaming soon morphed into uncontrollable sobbing. As he lowered his head again, he put his hand on Claude’s shoulder, pulling him close, cradling him. 

Too incoherent to form the words aloud, Dimitri inwardly cursed himself. Cursed himself for failing to save Claude. For failing to notice the assassin in time. For not bringing medicine or weapons. For even suggesting this trip in the first place.

Amid his grief, Dimitri did catch his breath for a moment, though he only managed a few words.

“Forgive me, Claude…”

He bowed his head, shoulders slumped as he continued to mourn.

But what he failed to notice was that Claude had started to move again.

“All right, Dimitri…”

Dimitri froze. He thought he had just heard Claude’s voice, but that would mean—

He caught a fleeting glimpse of movement.

Then he felt something stab him deep in the gut.

Dimitri suddenly found himself gasping for air, reeling with shock and pain. Out of pure reflex, he reached down to grab the weapon in his gut. Two things then happened.

As his hand gripped the hand holding the dagger, Dimitri looked ahead, directly at the face of his attacker. Seeing Claude’s forest green eyes staring back at him knocked the wind out of him a second time. 

He instantly let go of Claude’s hand.

Then, a split second later, Dimitri felt a wave of fatigue wash over him, clouding his mind and draining what energy he had left. The feeling rapidly intensified, giving him the sense that an outside force was indeed sapping his strength. He looked down, noticing a faint green glow surrounding Claude’s dagger. He could practically see the magic of Claude’s Crest drawing the energy out of his wound, and healing Claude’s. Dimitri stared at the light, mesmerized, but increasingly unable to focus.

Soon enough, he could no longer think straight. His vision went blurry, and his limbs grew heavy. Fatigue turned into exhaustion, and he practically collapsed into Claude’s lap. 

But he did not stay there for long. He felt Claude let go of the dagger, moving his hand to rest on Dimitri’s shoulder instead. At the same time, Dimitri pushed himself back up into a seated position. Tempted to reach for the dagger again, he stopped himself.

If he pulled the dagger out now, he would only bleed out faster. 

Clenching his teeth against the pain, Dimitri tried to think. Maybe - just maybe - there was a chance he and Claude could both make it back to Derdriu in time. He glanced around the clearing, looking for his horse.

Fortunately, it had not run far, and now that the fighting was over, cautiously approached where Claude and Dimitri sat. Meanwhile, Claude wrapped his arms around Dimitri, burying his head in his chest. Though the sounds were muffled, Dimitri could tell he was crying.

“Claude…?” he asked.

“Mitya… I’m sorry…”

The horse nudged Dimitri by the arm. Claude didn’t seem to notice.

“Claude… it’s all right…” Dimitri said. “But… can you help me up, please? We need to return to Derdriu… as quickly as possible…”

Claude slowly let go and sat back, looking Dimitri in the eye. Another pang of guilt pierced Dimitri’s heart; if anything, Claude looked _worse_ than he did before. Not only was he not fully healed from his wound, but his face was now lined with tear streaks from crying. Dimitri had never seen such guilt and sorrow mar those beautiful green eyes before.

More tears fell down Claude’s cheeks.

“But… your wounds…” he said. His next words nearly dissolved into sobs. “You’ll never make it…”

“Calm yourself, beloved…” Dimitri reached out and wiped the tears from Claude’s face. “We will _both_ make it. But we need to hurry…”

Doubt clouded Claude’s eyes, but he helped Dimitri to his feet nonetheless. He helped him mount the horse, and then he jumped on himself, sitting behind Dimitri and keeping him steady with an arm firmly wrapped around his waist. He took the reins in his other hand, and with a swift nudge, had the horse taking them back to Derdriu at a gallop. 

Jostled about by the horse’s constant movement, Dimitri rapidly felt too dizzy to hold himself steady. It was exhausting, and it only got worse the further they rode. Soon, he found himself slipping in and out of consciousness. He was only vaguely aware of Claude’s hand on his waist - which Dimitri clung to with both hands for dear life.

As if losing his grasp on Claude’s hand would mean losing Claude himself.

_We will both make it…_

In his fight to stay conscious, Dimitri lost track of time. To him, it felt like hours had passed by the time the coastline and the gates of Derdriu came into view. As they drew closer, a handful of figures appeared at the gates. They began to speak, but the words did not process in Dimitri’s mind. He did, however, hear Claude’s response.

“Go get Dedue and a team of healers immediately!”

Dimitri heard some incoherent chatter, followed by the sound of what he assumed was the gates being opened. He thought he felt the horse slow down as they neared the gates, but he couldn’t keep his eyes open enough to be sure. Claude’s voice, and the clop of the horse’s hooves on the cobblestone both grew so muffled that he strained to hear them at all.

His eye slipped closed, and he lost consciousness.

He awoke later, on an infirmary bed.

For the first minute or so upon regaining consciousness, he stared up at the ceiling, unsure of where he was. Then his memory came flooding back to him. And with the memory, a surge of panic.

Where was Claude? Was he all right?

Dimitri attempted to sit bolt upright in the bed, only to be painfully reminded of the wound in his abdomen. It caused him to fall right back onto the pillow. He lay there, momentarily paralyzed, squeezing his eye shut and letting out a pained groan.

The noise must have alerted someone, because Dimitri then heard footsteps approaching.

“Your Majesty?”

It was Dedue. Dimitri reopened his eye and tried to sit up again, slowly this time. Another wave of pain threatened to flatten him again, but he gritted his teeth and sat up anyway.

Dedue now stood by the bedside, his brow creased with concern.

“Dedue – agh!”

Dimitri doubled over, now pressing his hands over the wound. It was then he noticed the fresh bandaging wrapped around his waist, underneath his shirt – which had also been changed for him.

“What… happened?” he managed finally. “Where am I?”

“You and King Khalid were attacked,” Dedue replied. “He brought you back to Derdriu, both of you severely wounded…”

Dimitri’s head snapped up.

_“Where is he?”_

Dedue looked and gestured to Dimitri’s left. Dimitri turned his head.

A small gasp escaped his throat. Claude lay on a second bed, next to Dimitri’s. He lay flat on his back, his chest wrapped in bandaging. His eyes were closed, and he didn’t appear to be moving, nearly sending Dimitri into another panic. Only after watching Claude for a minute did he notice the rise and fall of his chest.

Dimitri visibly relaxed, letting out a sigh of relief.

“You were already unconscious, and he passed out shortly after we brought you two here,” Dedue said. “He’ll be fine, but I suggest you give him and yourself plenty of time to rest…”

“I will. Thank you, Dedue.”

Dedue nodded. “And if you need anything, the healers will be waiting in the next room,” he said.

With that, he bowed and saw himself out.

Dimitri stared at the foot of his bed, listening as Dedue’s footsteps gradually faded into silence. His gaze drifted over in Claude’s direction again. Although Claude was still asleep, it was reassuring just to watch the steady rhythm of his breath.

“We made it…” Dimitri muttered to himself.

He was about to lay back down in his bed when he saw Claude’s eyes flutter open. After staring blankly at the ceiling for a moment, he slowly turned his head to look at Dimitri. He smiled.

“Hey, Mitya…” Claude whispered.

Dimitri could barely contain himself. His eye instantly brightened, and his lips pulled upward into a loving smile of their own. If he could have gotten out of bed, he would have done so immediately, to pull his beloved into a tight embrace.

“Claude…” he began. “Look. Look at us. We both survived after all…”

“Heh…” Claude almost laughed, but stopped himself as his hand flew up to his chest. “We did, didn’t we? For once, I’m glad to be wrong about something…”

As he trailed off, he turned his gaze toward the ceiling again, looking contemplative. He slid his hand off his chest. Then, firmly pressing both hands on the mattress, he slowly pushed himself up. Dimitri let out a small gasp as he watched, remembering the pain of his own attempt to sit up earlier.

“…Claude?” he asked.

Claude did not answer right away. Instead, he sat still for a moment, head lowered while he took some deep breaths. He began to move, slowly, carefully, turning his body until he faced Dimitri directly. After a brief pause for some more breaths, Claude then put his feet on the floor.

“What are you doing?” Dimitri gasped. “Your wounds--”

“Relax.” Claude pushed himself off the bed. He wavered unsteadily on his feet, needing to lean on the headboard to stay upright. “I’m actually in pretty decent shape… all things considered.”

He took a step forward, moving his hand from the headboard of his bed to Dimitri’s. With his other hand, he reached out, gently stroking Dimitri’s face.

“I’m just glad you’re all right,” he said. He closed his eyes. “To think that I nearly killed you…”

Dimitri lay his hand on Claude’s.

“But you didn’t,” he said softly. “That is all that matters.”

“I know.”

Claude trembled, supporting all of his weight on his right hand as he carefully knelt. Now at eye level with Dimitri, he reopened his eyes.

“But don’t ever make me do that again.”

Dimitri reached up with both hands, pulling Claude closer. He wrapped his arms around him in a gentle embrace.

“I won’t,” he said. “I swear it.”

**Author's Note:**

> This will likely be my only contribution to the Dimiclaude birthday week, but I hope you enjoy nonetheless! Written primarily for the "free day", but I say it fits the "comfort" prompt as well. *shrugs*
> 
> Edit: I need to credit BuddyTheMeanPeacock for being my beta, and Songspinner for helping me come up with the title!


End file.
